


Only Dreaming

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, Character Death Fix, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why this?  Why now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 2.07.

Whatever Stephen had been expecting to see when the door opened, it wasn’t a Nick Cutter who was looking so tired and wrung out that he might keel over at any second.

It wasn’t a Nick Cutter who was giving him a look of such desperation, longing, and want, all overlaid with a sorrow so deep and dark it made Stephen’s heart break a little just to see it.

And it wasn’t a Nick Cutter who was suddenly dragging him over the threshold to push him up against a wall and kiss him with such an intense _need_ that Stephen felt dizzy.

He hadn’t a clue what was going on. Why this? Why now? Why choose this moment to break their unspoken rule?

Nick seemed to be trying to climb inside his mouth, inside his skin, inside his soul. But before he could even try to question why, Nick’s lips left his and were tracking down his throat, as his fingers tore at Stephen’s shirt, ripping buttons apart just quickly enough to allow his mouth access to smooth skin and taut nipples.

Stephen gasped as a hot tongue lapped at a nipple, teeth biting down gently, and then again as frantic hands scrabbled at his jeans, popping the button and dragging the fabric roughly down over his hips.

Nick dropped heavily to his knees and with no warning pulled Stephen’s cock into his mouth, swallowing it down like a dying man in a desert. Stephen bucked his hips forward even as his brain was telling him he should stop this. There was something slightly ‘off’ about this, like the world had shifted slightly on its axis and no one had bothered to tell him.

But he couldn’t have stopped it now even if he’d wanted to. Nick’s movements were clumsy and jerky, but his mouth was hot, and his tongue against Stephen’s cock was sinfully, exquisitely good.

“Nick…”

And then he was coming, and Nick was swallowing greedily, well past the point when he could have stopped, and it was only Stephen’s knees giving way that finally dragged his spent cock from Nick’s desperate mouth.

He hit the floor with a muted thud, jeans still tangled around his knees, shirt hanging open, brain still reeling. But Nick was on him again, kissing him once more with that fierce and frenzied need that spoke of something dark, something missing.

“Stephen…Stephen…” Nick spoke his name like a prayer – a longing for something that he wasn’t really sure would be answered.

“Nick, what is it?”

“Stephen… _please_ …just touch me…I need…I need to know…”

And Stephen couldn’t ignore that broken plea. Couldn’t deny the craving, the hunger he heard in Nick’s voice. And he knew instinctively that this wasn’t a moment for sympathy or gentleness. What Nick needed to know he wasn’t quite sure, but as he pushed his hand inside Nick’s clothing and closed it around hard flesh, Nick cried out, the sound muffled in Stephen’s neck, and his hips jerked upwards, thrusting his cock through Stephen’s grasp. He came almost immediately, shuddering against Stephen as he spilled himself over Stephen’s hand.

Stephen held him gently as the tremors grew less, but when they didn’t cease entirely it suddenly came to him that Nick was crying, weeping softly into his shoulder with all the sorrow of a person utterly lost.

“Hey, what is it?” Stephen’s tone was gentle, but his thoughts were frightened. He hadn’t seen this side of Nick in a long time, and he’d forgotten what a shattered man looked like.

“I thought I was dreaming,” murmured Nick brokenly. “I only ever see you in my dreams, and I thought this was no different.”

“You’re not dreaming,” Stephen said, more confused than ever. “And you saw me only yesterday. Remember – big argument, you hitting me? That definitely wasn’t a dream – it hurt too much.”

Nick hiccupped – a sound that might have been a laugh, but then he was sobbing again. “That wasn’t yesterday.”

“What are you talking about? Of course it was. It’s why I’m here. You were right. I shouldn’t have listened to her. She only brings chaos and destruction – I know that now.”

Another hiccup, and then words so faint that Stephen had to lean in to catch them. And even then he wasn’t sure he’d heard them correctly.

“You died. You died but you’re here. And I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I…what?”

“You died. Two months ago. You did listen to her and you died. But now you’re back. And I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I had to _know_ that you were really here. And I’m so, so sorry.”

Stephen finally caught on to what Nick was apologising for, and he smiled even though Nick couldn’t see it. The nonsensical words about dying were scaring him a little, but this at least was something he could deal with.

“Hey, did you hear me complaining? We’ve both denied this for far too long. And I for one don’t want to any more.”

Nick nodded emphatically into Stephen’s neck, his sobs finally calming into nothing more than an erratic panting. “Me either,” he said. “You’re back, and I’m never letting you go again."


End file.
